Wasp War One

I haven’t gotten stung by a wasp since I was like 6 when I was playing with a toy gorilla in my family room and since I had no other weapon, I smashed the wasp with the toy gorilla. But yesterday morning I was taking out my trash and I noticed a wasp, I kept an eye on him (or her. Yeah, I’m pretty sure the wasp was a she cuz I could faintly hear the wasp buzzing along to Love Story) as I threw out my trash. But little did I know, the wasp must have been rehearsing this maneuver for months because this was just a decoy wasp, while I kept my eye on that wasp, a second wasp in the dumpster began constructing a large wooden horse and climbed up insi…...sorry, wrong story. Anyway, the second wasp executed a stealthy barrel roll (at least that’s what I imagined it doing) and flew right into my shirt. It remained still there due to my (optimist) glorious six pack (pessimist) odor of not showering in two days. So right as I crossed into my room I felt a sensation that was as close to pain as someone such as myself who doesn’t feel pain could feel in my upper chest. I grabbed at my shirt and the wasp flew out onto my desk. Sadly, I did not have a large toy gorilla. But I did have an insanely large Philosophy textbook. And by the power vested in myself, Aristotle, Plato and Confucius, ended the wasps’ life. And because I got so caught up in the moment I glared angrily at the wasps’ dead body and yelled “FREEEEEEDOM!” Which in hindsight, made no sense at all given my particular set of circumstances. Let this be a message to all wasps that you have woken a sleeping giant. Prepare to have the fight brought to your dumpsterstep.